Ethereal
by Kiwiwutwut
Summary: Those eyes were the only indication of anything living within the inert frame. They were captivating pools of experience so ancient Dean mused he could spend the rest of his life exploring and not nearly scratch the surface. The lips that formerly belonged to Jimmy Novak were full, but pursed in a flat line of indifference. Plump, pink and a complete waste being on a man. (Destiel)
1. Chapter 1

Title: Ethereal

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition." Castiel: The angel of Thursday

a/n: This is my first fic in quite a few months. The first chapter is always awful while I'm getting back into the groove of writing. It will get better from here.

This is Destiel. Don't like it, don't read it. I know how crazy the SPN fandom can be so please leave your flame at the door. You have been warned. (Dude/Angel action, SmokingDrinkingDean)

Dean sat slumped on the hood of the Impala, an unlit cigarette clenched between his impossibly straight teeth. He knew he shouldn't partake, and if Sam caught him with one he would be in for one hell of a lecture but- Sammy wasn't right now and Dean needed /something/ to calm his nerves. At least he was giving his liver a break?

The thought made him stifle a chuckle as he pulled out a matchbox. A single strike and the familiar scent of flame relieved his senses of the pungent odor of motel dumpster and whorehouse perfume. His first drag propelled him back to his time in Hell. The sickening screams, clean snap of bone, scrape of rusted metal against the agonizing squish of flesh. A putrid sulfur smothering him, strangling hi-"Hello Dean."

"-AH! Cas! Hi. Don't.. sneak up on me like that, man." He exhaled, the smoke curling like tendrils against the blank face of the Angel before him. If it bothered Castiel he made no show of it. He remained as straight backed and inflexible as ever. Dean shook his head lightly, mentioning internally that he would never get used to this near robotic demeanor.

"What do ya' need Cas? I'm busy." His voice came out with a graveled bite. He avoided that penetrating azure gaze by running a hand through his tousled locks, fixing his vision on the flicking 'vacancy' sign.

"You left. Sam left. I wanted to check in on if you needed anything before I went on my patrols." His voice was even, his words precise. Dean looked up, the last drag of life from the cigarette dancing on his tongue.

There was a long pause as he studied the man before him. Those eyes were the only indication of anything living within the inert frame. They were captivating pools of experience so ancient Dean mused he could spend the rest of his life exploring and not nearly scratch the surface. The lips that formerly belonged to Jimmy Novak were full, but pursed in a flat line of indifference. Plump, pink and a complete waste being on a man. The hunter knew a few women who would kill for the aesthetic.

"Dean...?" It was so surreal, hearing a voice come out of a body neither belonged to. Castiels' cerulean blue gaze softened with concern. Dean coughed, tossing the butt and stamping it out with his boot. "No, no... You're good to go."

The angels brow furrowed in momentary concentration and right as he was about to disappear (another thing Dean would never get used to) the other man cleared his throat hoarsely and choked out, "Actually Cas.."

A swift turn and the bottom hem of the trench coat skated the laces of the Deans boots. No words left the otherworldly man, he simply waited- expectantly.

"No. Go. Never-mind." Castiels' shoulders ruffled, obviously perturbed at being held between two worlds for a 'nevermind' - and with a blink of an eye he was gone. Not without leaving a curious gust of wind in his wake. If you could storm off with a teleport, that was obviously what the man had done.

As the thread of wind expired, Dean felt something disembodied feather against his cheek. A plummeting of something red-hot boiled up from his gut, knocking him to his back on the sturdy hood of his baby. His hands shot up to the collar of his shirt, stretching it down as he gasped for air. Something blinding was pulsing through to his fingertips. Sensation ensnared him- radiating through his pores like steam. It was delicious, chaotic, and euphoric. Completely unlike anything Dean had ever experienced before.

It only lasted a moment before it ebbed away and Dean was able to recollect himself.

His brow was damp with sweat and his chest heaving labored breaths. The usually cool and composed Winchester fumbled through his Jacket pockets for another light. A second match strike and the humble kindle sent him through a fractured spiral of hell fire, shrieking, chains and torture- all cleared away by a firm grip on his shoulder- raising him from perdition. He surrendered, and allowed himself to be pulled from the inferno- the grip on him pulsed and in a scorch of fume he was met with the furious copper eyes of his brother.

"Sammy!" Dean snapped back and eyed the non-ashed stick held disdainfully away from the both of them.

"What's gotten into you Dean?" Behind the turbulence was genuine worry. Sam tossed the offending bud into the dirt, his attention turning back to the older boy.

"Nothing." He waved his brother off, hopping up from the car and stalking back inside. "Just... Stupid Angel mojo." His pulse hitched when he felt a slight tightening in the front of his jeans- the last syllable dying on his lips.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two.

a/n: Destiel. This chapter is more explicit. Chapters will get longer as the story progresses! I promise. They are little baby cliffhangers right now~  
_

Deans forehead rested against the cool, chipped tile of the motel shower. He was exhausted, and the water that cascaded down his back was nearly ice. It still couldn't chill his sweltering insides. Whatever had knocked him back had scorched something deep within him. It was pulsating wildly, and growing with a fevered urgency.

The only thing he could find that quelled this something, even for a moment- was his own release.

The Winchester took a deep breath and gripped his length once more. He palmed the stiff member- noticing the burn of skin on skin. "Busty Asian Babes.." Was his mantra as he thought about to the smut mags he was so fond of. The delectable curves of those women. 'Bikinis... Short shorts... sometimes no shorts...'

Seizing his swollen lip through his teeth he bit back a moan. 'Beautiful topless babes, covered in oil, fixing problems under the hood of his impala.' He choked back a mild, "No.." 'some other car, not his baby... never his baby.'

Filtering through images of gorgeous, supple, writhing bodies. Her perfect tan skin-toned and taut, natural full lips, breath-taking arctic blue eyes-

His cock gave a hearty throb.

'No. Brown eyes. Big beautiful brown doe eyes.' He continued with his motions, full and fluid- the muscles in his upper arm starting to burn in protest. How long had he been in here? He mused thoughtfully, his mind straying away from his beloved ladies. 'Sam must be asleep... Cas doesn't sleep...'

His mind was flooded with the Angel.

His deep, poignant voice- Deans' breath hitched in his chest.  
Those impetuous, pervasive eyes. Like the crashing of waves against smooth rock. Dean felt a knotting in his loins.

His motions were now fevered and erratic. He had resigned himself to the questionable thoughts of the angel 'if it meant release' he quickly told himself.

He imagined grabbing that stupid blue tie and smashing their lips together.  
Ripping that damn coat from his perfectly sculpted frame. The thin chored muscles rippling up his back- beckoning the other mans hands to trace down them.

He tried to bite back between labored breaths but a small, "Cas..." Slipped out. When Dean opened his eyes the Angel in question was standing before him, coat completely drenched, his face turned tilted slightly in curiosity. The hand stoking Dean's member didn't stop or still. In fact, he felt a speedy pulsating. He was too far gone, studying the droplets of water splashing down the delectably chiseled jaw of the man standing before him.  
"Dean..." Castiel noticed his motions, his gaze lowering.

Dean was so close, he could feel himself whimper out a, "Please."  
Castiel reached forward with a cool-soaked hand and gripped Deans' cock tight.

That alone was enough to cause an eruption within the other man as he witnessed the front of Castiels coat being painted in the film of release.

Waves of wicked white hot euphoria ruptured the taller man, and he slipped to the bottom of the shower- his last ditch effort to regain his composure was gripping the front of the other mans soiled duster.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

a/n: Getting more explicit. Chapters getting longer. Destiel. If you got this far and are offended by man/man then that is your problem.

Castiel caught Dean just before his unconscious body hit the hard tile of the shower floor. The water was still spilling across both of them like an ever endoring waterfall. It was almost effortless, how Castiel restored Dean. Healed him of his exhaustion with a quick motion.

Dean sat up quickly, sputtering water. His eyes were wide, mortified as he- in the nude, locked eyes with a soaked to the bone Angel. "Cas... wha-?" He stopped dead, everything flooding back to him. Castiel made a effort to stand, Dean getting a full view of his 'work' splattered the front of the other mans' coat like a goddamn Jackson Pollock painting.

"We... need to wash those." Dean sprung to his feet and slung a plush towel low on his hips before turning back to Castiel. The Angel had shrugged out of the overcoat but was having difficulty with the clothing underneath. Dean absentmindedly wondered if Castiel had changed out of those clothes often, if at all. Angels didn't need showers, did they?

"Let me help with that. You can't go busting all the buttons. Sammy's the only one who knows how to sew around here." Pushing his embarrassment to the back-burner, Dean helped his companion out of the nearly transparent button-up, careful not the directly touch the flush skin. His muscles were just as taut as the hunter had imagined. His skin had a slight olive undertone, and was nearly hairless. A thin thatch of hair encircled the former bellybutton of Jimmy, trailing down his stomach and disappearing just beneath the equally damp trousers.

If Jimmy wore a belt it was long lost in the time that his body had been taken over. Castiel stepped out of the pants, revealing nothing underneath- Dean chuckled quietly to himself. 'Man of the cloth indeed' while doing his best to avoid noticing anything further about the man or member before him. Dean felt his cheeks flush and a familiar ache pulse low in his gut. He gathered up the clothes, muttered to Castiel to / _stay here_ / and went to gather other clothes for the wash along as something suitable for the now nude man to wear.

Castiel stood in the middle of the deserted self service laundry room, staring down at himself. He was wearing a pair of Sams' loose running shorts and a thin cotton t-shirt. He felt the chill of the night air against his normally heavily layered skin. Dean shut the lid to the washer with a little more force than he had intended. The coat was shoved to the very bottom. 'Extra water, extra clean' Dean told himself with a satisfactory smirk.

His emerald eyes met the sight of the confused man. He had to admit, Jimmy was handsome but Castiel wearing anything other than the heavy coat and backwards tie was so.. alien. If it weren't for those nearly luminous eyes, he might not recognize the other man if he were to simply pass him on the street.

With the fluid sweep of his hand he beckoned the dark haired man to follow him back to the room. All the lights were off save for the faint glow of the TV. Sam had left it on for Dean after his shower. The long haired man was snoozing peacefully in the bed furthest from the door, an occasional snore erupted within the otherwise silent room.

The room they had gotten had 2 beds, a couch and a small kitchenette. They were planning an extended stay until Bobby got back to them about where they needed to go. Dean was happy to be stationary for a few days- though he loved his baby, the drives were starting to take a toll on his back. He sauntered towards the kitchen, the angel in tow. He open the fridge ajar, light spilling into the kitchen and pulled a beer out for himself and the other man.

"Do you?" He held up the crisp bottle and the angel shrugged mildly. "Beer it is!" He used the edge of the counter the crack open the bottles, being careful to not make enough noise to wake his slumbering brother.

"Have you ever washed that damn coat?" His voice was gruff with fatigue. He tried to pass the question off as a casual small talk, but he was genuinely curious. Color rose up on his cheeks again, and he was thankful for the dim light.

"No. As I don't perspire, there is no need." The answer was so factual, and delivered in such an even voice, Dean almost laughed. The sneaky voice in the back of his mind whispered, 'I'll make you sweat.' Choking he quickly pushed that thought further back, saving his drinking faux pas with a deep nod. He hurried past and plopped heavily down on the sofa. The springs gave an eerie squeak of protest. Castiel followed- nursing the bitter beverage.

"Lets see what Sammy left on the boobtube." Clicking the mute button their ears were instantly assaulted with the booming voice of an after hours infomercial sales man.

"BUT WAIT-" Belted the bearded man, holding up an object that probably served only one specific purpose, rendering is useless for any other activity.

"GAH-NO." Dean slapped mute, and switched the channel. Colorful words splashed the screen, promises of hot single girls in your area waiting eagerly to hear from you.

"Why are these women naked?" Castiels head was tilted in curiosity, his voice wavered only slightly.

"Their Daddies didn't hug them enough." Dean took a long swig of beer before adding, "Or hugged them too much... Yikes."

Hurriedly Dean flicked through channels.

News.

Soaps.

Spanish game shows

Girls gone wild. Pause. No, Cas is still here.

Black and white crime show- here we go.

They sat in silence, enjoying the over dramatic detective- a cool buzz enveloping them both. At least the flush on the angels face told Dean there was a buzz. Castiel watched Dean out of the corner of his eye, knocking back a drink whenever he did. Needless to the say in the length of an episode they had both finished three.

Dean felt himself nodding off. The alcohol left him feeling warm and comfortable after an

uneasy evening. Surrendering to slumber he slipped to the side, his cheek coming in quick contact with the impossibly warm flesh of Castiels bare thigh. A sensation that could only be described at electric burst through the sleeping man, instantly bringing him back to the waking world. "I'm up. Shut up, I'm up." Without a glance back he fled from the angels proximity, back to the laundry facility, calling about it over his shoulder.

Dean tossed the damp clothes harshly into the dryer, and slammed it shut. What was he going to do? He had just calmed down and now his body was revved up and ready. He glared accusingly down at the erection tucked into the waist band of his boxers. It looked so proud and mocking- "You better knock this off." His eyes narrowed menacingly before he turned and stalked out of the room.

He avoided Castiel as he entered, making a b-line for the fridge and grabbing another beer. He made a mental note to get more in the morning before popping the cap off and meandering back to the sofa. Castiel has changed the channel, a pillow rested in his lap, the quiet sound of girls 'wooing' and laughing brought him back to attention. The Angels blue eyes were glazed, the pillow moving ever so slightly against his thin-cloth clad lap.

Green eyes glinted and locked with the television. Though they were blurred out, the very distinct vision of bare breasts, and scantily clad young ladies sparked at the previous fire still pooling in his loins. He groaned inwardly.

"I like this show." The meek voice of the dark haired man stirred him.

"I bet you do.." Dean muttered absently, downing the rest of his beer and turning to grab another. On his way back from the kitchenette he saw the pillow abandoned on the floor, and the hand of jimmy palming clumsily, though enthusiastically at his own lap.

"Ca-" His voice broke and he cleared the gravel from his throat, "Cas, buddy... what are you doing?" The flush crept from his cheeks and wound around the shell of his ears and down the back of his neck. His cock was rebelling against the worn elastic of his boxers, weeping and throbbing at the perplexing, albeit arousing sight before him.

Castiel didn't answer. He gaze was glued to the television, his ministrations possibly an oblivious afterthought.

A hunger detonated in his core and without a second thought he dropped to his knees before the grunting angel. Castiel tore his eyes from the graphic delight to take in the motions of the kneeling hunter.

Deans mouth was dry and his fingers quivering. He bit down on his lower lip hard, jarring him enough to unclench his fists. The angel had helped him in his... time of need. Why shouldn't he return the favor. Sam was asleep, the alcohol was bubbling pleasantly in his veins, and goddamnit if he didn't kind of want to.

He stilled his quaking hands long enough to slide up and around the firm knees, traversing the surprisingly smooth thighs of the seated man.

"I don't know why..." He whispered behind a slight slurr.

"In vino veritas." The lilt of Castiel's lips wrapping around the italian phrase was enough to push Dean a little further.

"In wine there is truth..." The recited, his fingers slipping further up the legs, beneath the thin- fluid like fabric. Cas slid forward a bit, his legs opening in welcome. He had never experienced the intimate touch of another and it was splendid. He was pleased to be sharing it with him, his charge. His friend. His Dean.

A surge of courage and Dean gripped the waist band of the offending garment and ripped them down past the angels knees, his cock springing from it's confines. Cas bucked his hips up at the chill air, soothed only by the hot breath coming from the light haired man.

The head was already leaking. Beads of the precum swelling at the peak. One hand gripped the base and stroked up with fluidity. Cas nearly leapt off the couch. Dean used his thumb to circle the head, lubed with the bead of cum- a pleasant hum emitting from low in the angels throat- his eyes lidded but never leaving his companion.

"It's only fair..." And with that he wrapped his lips around the ethereal mans' length.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

a/n: Woo! Getting naughtier as we go on. This Chapter is Bottom!Dean. Also, if you guys are interesting in me continuing this story let me know! My stories fizzle out after awhile unfortunately, if I don't have any sort of interaction from the people who are reading them. I want to keep going but I'm worried about falling off the bandwagon and abandoning this story like all the others. D: or not, I ain't yo' momma!

Dean swirled his tongue around the head of Castiel's cock, lapping up another bead of precum. He tasted of salt, sweat and something so uniquely Cas. Could it have been anything to do with his angelic nature? Or perhaps dick-sucking wasn't as horrendous as Dean had always imagined it to be. He hummed against the other man, sending a wave of vibration up the levels of the seated mans spine. Cas's fingers were digging deep into the coarse fabric of the couch, his hips starting to buck up wildly. Dean noticed from the corner of his eye that that television screen started to flicker- a grating static greeting his ears. He shrugged it off and continued with his ministrations.

The green eyed man looked up and saw that Castiel had laid his head back on the plush back-cushion of the sofa. His chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. His eyes lidded, but Dean swore he still saw a sapphire glint from beneath the thick curtain of lashes.

He squeezed the base and ran his tongue up the underside of Cas' cock skillfully, imitating all of the things he loved women doing to him. Just as he was about the dive back and swallow around the angels' length he saw the drowsy and tousled head of Sam appear from the corner of the room.

Dean sat up- instantly sobered. A cold weight plummeted to the bottom of his stomach and he ducked down again, hoping his brother would pass without taking any notice of them.

Sam opened his mouth into a hearty yawn and scooted right past the men, paying them no mind- the bathroom door clicking subtly shut behind him.

"Cas." Dean snapped, pulling the fabric up and over the dark haired mans throbbing member. "We gotta go..." Castiel stood, reluctantly and followed Dean out of the room. The cold evening air hitting his heated body, waking them both up considerably.

Dean was moving with an urgency. He reached into the dryer and grabbed the warm clothes- smoothing them out of the surface of the dryer. His voice was gruff when he turned back to Castiel. "I'm sorry Cas. It's time for you to go. I'll let you know when we need you again." He patted the clothes, the rest bundled up against his still accelerated heartbeat and pushed past the angel without another word.

Castiel stood there, a loneliness creeping over him as his body gave way to the sensations of his dying arousal. As he hastily grabbed his clothes a surge of anger coursed through him and the single light swaying from a low wire burned with a tremendous brightness before bursting into a thousand pieces, glass scattering about the small room.

Just as Dean entered the Motel room, Sam was exiting the bathroom- both of them startled by the sudden surge of static from the television, followed by an internal bellow and the screen shattering to pieces. A lone wisp of smoking licking at the fragments of splintered glass still encased within the the old wooden frame.

~Later that week~

Bobby had sent them on the near impossible task of tracking down the incarnation of Bronte- the goddess of Thunder. After many ill fitting Thor jokes Sam shoo'ed his brother way- vying that he would much rather research in peace.

Dejected, but releaved to be off the case and away from his brother, Dean headed to the nearest Pub. The lights were low and the air was thick with tendrils of tobacco laced fume. Breathing in he smirked, it was rare now a days that you came across a place that still allowed smoking indoors.

He popped a cigarette out from his pack, between his teeth and seated himself at the end of the bar.

After nearly half a dozen beers, and countless round of pool Dean excused himself to the restroom.

Just as the Hunter was zipping up his jeans he heard a faint pop behind him and was reallocated to the wall, a heavily clothed arm pressed him firmly against the exposed brick before flipping him around to meet their gaze. The ablasen azure eyes of the Angel Castiel glowered down upon him. He saw a faint flicker in the overhead light, and momentarily wondered back to the television incident, making a mental note to ask Castiel about it if he wasn't ripped apart by the seemingly enraged man.

"Uh.. Hi Cas." Dean was too inebriated and caught off guard to be anything but pleasently flabbergasted towards the ancient one.

"Dean." His tone was flat and curt. "You need to finish what you started."

Dean blanched, taken aback. "Cas... That was a mistake.." He shook his head mildly, his eyebrows knitting together in apology.

Cas' eyes narrowed, the overhead light wavering once more. "You woke something up in this vessel and I can't find release." His voice cracked at the end, and Dean had a flash back to the envelope of arousal he had felt after Castiel had stormed off and his "angel mojo" touched him. "Look man..." He ran his hands nervously through his drunkenly tousled locks. "That was a one time thing, and this isn't the time or place to bring this up." He looked apprehensively around the lavatory, expecting someone to jump out from one of the stalls and start accusing them of unholy actions.

The angelic man dropped to his knees, his hands resting high on the light haired man's thighs.

"I'll help you..." His voice was barely above a whisper.

Dean tried to step back but was met with the chill of the wall behind him. "What? Whoa... Casss..." Cas was rubbing the front of Dean's dark denim pants- a foreign and disillusioned sensation stroking up the sides of both of his legs. It wasn't from Cas' vessel but was so familiar. Like an imprint of his delicious touch.

The older Winchester felt the front of his clothing begin to tighten and he fixed his brows in an expression of anger. Cas stood up, his body stiff and squared off. Both were ready to fight. A glow of ultramarine flashed across the holy man's determined eyes.

Without a second of hesitation Dean ran at Castiel- a inadvisable feeling welling up from his gut. He slowed short of slamming into the other man before smashing their lips together.

The kiss was hot, wet and fevered. In a frenzy, they devoured each other with a thirst akin to a dying man desperate for water.

Dean backed up into the same wall- Castiel picking him up and grinding their sexes together in the process. Dean let out a low purr, while the dark haired man simply hissed.

With growing confidence Dean gyrated down upon the other mans hips, feeling the hard erection pressing up through his now tight slacks.

A growl bit back in Deans throat as Castiel carried him to the other side of the loo, slamming him into the stall door, and further into the small enclosure.

Dean tore at the heavy coat wrapped around Jimmy Novaks athletic frame. He jumped down from the arms of the angel and threw the coat to the floor, kneeling on it. His fingers traced up the iron lines of those normally well fitted trousers. He felt the impressive bulge under his fingertips, though it was not as satisfactory as feeling it through the smooth gym shorts. His other hand dropped to rub tentatively against his own girth- pressing up against the thick front of his worn jeans.

Hurriedly he unfastened the black slacks, allowing the erection to spring free. Cas let out a controlled sigh- relieved to have the cool air beating on the searing heat of his cock.

Smirking, the younger man leaned in close- tempting the other with a motion that said devilishly, 'I'm doing to swallow you whole' A chuckle escaped his full lips as he backed up, much to Cas' dismay- in order to part the teeth of his zipper so slowly it proved to be quite the dangerous and unnecessary tease. His cock was free and he took yet another moment to relish in the anticipation before spitting in his palm and gripping the base of Cas' member firmly. "I'll take care of you.." He whispered before plunging forward, and choking on the length.

Cas nearly lost control, his fingers weaving through the unkempt locks of the man currently servicing him- his hips thrust forward with such force and no regard for comfort. Dean simply opened his throat and welcomed the intrusion- one hand gripping on the hem of Castiels white button up, his nails close to penetrating the smooth skin of the angels abdomen, the other slowly stroking himself- matching each thrust into his throat.

The hunter pulled back, a chuckle emitting from his swollen lips.

"Finish." Castiels' voice was pleading but firm.

Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before planting a kiss on the Angels pursed lips.

"No. I've got something much better in mind."

He kicked off his boots, shrugged out of his pants and gripped the neck of his t-shirt, ripping it up and over his head. He felt the angels eyes watching him- a hunger burning bright in those baby blues. He bit his bottom lip before sauntering back up to the flushed and panting man. One more firm kiss, and Dean gripped the collar of Castiels white button up and ripped it open. There was the sound of buttons pelting the stone floor, and the rustle of fabric, Dean revealed a tiny glass vial. He poured a liberal amount into his cupped palm before gripping the other mans cock and lubricating it.

"Holy Oil." Dean Smirked, before throwing the bottle back into his clothing pile.

Cas looked apprehensive before hearing Deans' words and lust lidded his eyes once more.

"Now... You're going to fuck me." And with that he hooked his leg around the broader mans' hips, his hands squared on the shoulders before lifting himself and positioning the now prepared cock to his no where near prepared entrance.

He used Cas' grip holding him steady to lower himself down on the other mans girthy sex- swearing loudly.

"Fuck Cas, you're doing to have to heal me when this is done." He rocked his hips forward as his grip on shoulders tensed. Cas went rigid, his eyes were closed, and his teeth absently worrying at his lower lip. His breathing was slow and very steady. A chill coursed though the hunter as he worried he had gone to far and over stimulated the virginal seraph.

"Cas, you okay?"

Cas' eyes opened with a start. The iris' a phosphorescent aqua. Without a single word Cas hoisted Dean up and dropped him, and his entire weight down on his cock. Dean howled, his back arching up. His fingers were scrambling, finding purchase on the quirky and incorrectly knotted blue tie. The pressure around the Holy mans' throat caused Cas' to buck up, turn around the slam Deans' bare back against the cool- rough wall. Using the wall for leverage, he created a smooth rhythm, sliding in and out of the tensing opening- The lifted man writhing,

his hips propelling and urging erratically- his muscled legs wrapping around the narrow of the angels hips.

His face flush, eyes clenched hard as he bit back grimaces that were very quickly transforming into groans of pleasure.

"Dea-" The man in question slapped his hand against the dark haired man's mouth. Castiel opened his mouth in protest, and three of Dean's fingers slipped in. He let out an audible purr as Cas gently sucked and bit at his fingertips. "Shh. Don't talk. Just. Keep. Going."

He pulled his fingers out and gripped the other mans hair tight, raising his hips and thundering back down- causing a throat groan, while he muffled a pleasured scream in the damp shoulder of the man inside him.

Their bodies moved with a hot fluidity. Cas' thrusts were getting more tempered, and Dean could feel the rough edges of the brick ripping his back to shreds. A minor irritant, barely touching the waves of euphoria crashing down on him. He couldn't be bothered with panicked thoughts of homosexuality, and the nature of what they were doing. It felt TOO good. And anything that felt this good, with someone he cared for this much couldn't possibly be wrong.

"There! FUCK..." Dean hissed, stilling his hips as Cas pumped up- pressing onto the bundle of nerves the set off the most incredible feeling Dean had ever experienced.

His breathing quickened as Cas made no effort to stray his motion of slamming into the bundle as quickly and frequently as he could.

The hunter was babbling now, a low whine dancing in his throat. His thighs were spasming, his cock rubbing against the sweat slicked skin of both their bodies.

A millisecond before his release, he bit down on the crook of Castiels' shoulder- causing the other man the pump one- two- filling dean with a propelling warmth. Both chests painted in their efforts.

Not a sound left the lips of Jimmy Novak- but Dean could hear an incredible wailing emitting from the television screens mounted on the walls of the pub- followed by the faint popping of everything light bulb as they burned bright- one after another and exploded- leaving the establishment in total darkness, it and it;s patrons littered in a shower of thin glass.


End file.
